The Murder Mystery
by Karenkook
Summary: Humanized. What first appeared to be a normal Murder Mystery event, became a REAL murder mystery. When Nigel is killed and Skipper is blamed, he has but one week to clear his name. Can he do it before time is up? Or will the actual killer be never found?
1. Chapter 1

**This is based off a dream I had a while ago. I was shocked by what the outcome was in my own dream. Short, I know, but oh well.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own POM**

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><p>Rain poured down heavily in the city of New York. A small group of people had gathered at the number 1 club in all of Manhattan. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by thunder as the group became acquainted with one another. Each one of them was given an invention to attend this special party, a party held by Julien Lemus.<p>

"Good evening, Skipper." a woman greeted a black haired gent. She had long, straight brown hair that reached up to her waist. She had fair skin, hazel eyes, and freckles scattered across her nose. She wore a short yellow dress (that reached her mid-thighs) with a v-cut and matching heels. She wore a black belt right underneath her dress.

"Hello, Marlene." the man greeted her. Skipper had short black hair styled into a buzz-cut. He had pale skin and sapphire blue eyes. Like all the men who were invited there, he wore a tuxedo but he had on a sapphire blue tie.

"I didn't expect you to be here." Marlene said randomly.

"I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Private's constant persuading." Skipper informed her.

"Well, it's still nice you're here." she smiled then made her way to talk with the other guests. As soon as she left, a tall man, whom Skipper knew, made his way to the sapphire eye man.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sir?" the man asked the shorter.

"As much as I can, Kowalski, as much as I can." he answered.

Kowalski was taller by Skipper by a head. He had neatly combed black hair, fair skin, and intelligent blue eyes that always swarmed with different ideas. He wore a tux with a gray tie.

"That's good to hear." Kowalski said. Silence passed. "Why do you suppose Julien called us all here?"

Before Skipper could open his mouth to answer, a loud _thump_ echoed throughout the room.

"Hello?" the host, Julien, muttered through the microphone.

Julien had messy black hair, dark tan skin, and amber eyes. Unlike his usual tropical outfit, he wore a tux with a green tie.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" his thick accent present and known. "Oh goodie! Okay!" - he slapped his hands together. "I am being sure that you are all wondering why I have brought you here, correct?" Murmurs of agreement hummed through the crowd. "Well, it is being because... tonight is 'Murder Mystery Night'!" he paused, letting the guests talk amongst themselves for a few moments. "Now that you are to be knowing, have fun! Who knows who'll be killed tonight... Mauhahahahaha!" Lightning flashed. "Oh, hey look at that. Anyways, have fun!"

"Oh goodie! A mystery!" chirped a young man with a British accent who suddenly appeared next to Kowalski and Skipper. He had blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and peach skin. He wore a tux with a yellow tie.

"Private, when did you get here?" asked Skipper.

Private shrugged. "Just a second ago. This will be fun though, right?"

"I don't know, Private, something in my gut tells me otherwise... Keep look out for anything suspicious. The young cadet nodded and looked around the room.

"Oh, look! There's Uncle Nigel!" Private left his leader to go hang out with his older relative. Skipper was left all alone once again. He decided to get a drink; on the way, though, he bumped into someone.

"Sorry." a voice grunted. Skipper looked up to see who he bumped into.

The man was taller than him, but shorter than Kowalski. He had a scar running down his face, had a black mo-hawk, darkish peach skin, and green-blue eyes. He wore a tux with a maroon tie.

"It's alright Rico." Skipper assured the man. He saw that Rico had two drinks. He couldn't help but ask, "Is that for Ms. Perky?"

Rico blushed, but shook his head. He handed one of the punches to Skipper. "Nigel asked to give this to you."

Skipper looked at the punch. At first, he was suspicious, but then he remembered this was Nigel he was asking about. Nigel was a dear friend who had already earned Skipper's trust. Knowing this, Skipper took the cup and gave a small nod to Rico.

"Tell him thanks, soldier." he told Rico. The taller nodded then made his way into the crowd. Skipper sat down on a lone table and watched as everyone had fun. The mystery would begin soon, he knew that.

The lights went black and came back on. Julien gasped over-dramatically and kneeled down besides Mort, the 'victim of a murder'. The game had begun, much to Skipper's distaste. He watched as Julien began to blame everyone for Mort's 'death'. The constant switching of the lights and way too dramatic acting didn't do much for the game. Skipper shook his head and looked down at his drink.

He gulped down the punch and suddenly began to feel a bit woozy. His vision was getting blurry; his head became lighter; and his eyelids became heavier. Before he knew it, he was knocked out.

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><p><em><strong>*~Later~*<strong>_

When Skipper came to, he noticed two things: One, Marlene, Julien, Mort, Maurice, Private, Kowalski, and Rico were staring down at him in a terrified expression. Two, Nigel sat next to him... and he was dead.

Nigel's lively eyes that held hundreds of untold secrets were lifeless, his pale skin was as white as snow, and his breathing had stopped. Skipper's eyes widened as they came upon the dagger that was stabbed right through Nigel's chest. They widened even more when he saw that he, himself, was holding the dagger. The blood soaked through Nigel's tux, making the warm crimson liquid visible even through the black fabric.

"S-skipper." gasped Marlene, her voice shaking. Skipper let go of the dagger and found that it was deeper in Nigel's body than he realized.

"How could you?" Private asked, his blue eyes filling with tears. "How could you kill him?"

"I-I-I..." Skipper struggled to find the right words. One moment, he was sleeping; the next, Nigel is dead. He gulped. "This isn't what it looks like! I didn't kill him!"

"Really?" Maurice asked, his amber eyes filled with suspicion and fear. "Then how is it that Nigel is dead and that you're the one who has his grip on the knife that killed him?"

"I-I... I don't know." he admitted, looking down. Kowalski shook his head.

"I'm sorry, sir," the intellect told his ex-leader, "but under the laws of New York, you are hereby under arrest." Skipper's head shot right up.

"What?" he asked. "You can't do that! You, of all people, should know that I would never kill a friend!"

"I'm sorry, Skipper, but given the evidence-"

"What evidence? How can you be so sure that I am the one who's responsible for this?" - he gestured to the dead man. - "How can you tell I wasn't framed?"

"How else would your hand be firmly gripped on the dagger, the dagger that was used to stab Nigel?"

"I don't know how, but I know for certain that I am not the one who did this to him. I am going to find out who did this, and when I do, they are going to pay."

"How?" asked Rico.

"I have my ways soldier. Just give me a week to find the culprit." Silence. Finally, Kowalski said, "Alright, one week. Once that week is up, I'll have no choice but to arrest you; and, given the evidence, you'll have to be jailed for life."

"That's all I need."

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><p><strong>Viola! Ze first chapter! Who do you think killed him? I'll give you a hint, he was in this chapter, but at the same time, he wasn't. Confusing, yes, but that's all I can give you for now...<strong>

***~R&R~***


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah, I'm back. I'm watching Kim Possible while writing this. So if it seems like something doesn't completely make sense, then it's because of my double attention focuses. Sorry for the short chapter, it's barely longer than the last.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own POM.  
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><p>The first thing Skipper decided to do, was make a list of suspects. There were three columns: One for his enemies, another for Nigel's enemies, and the last for enemies who hated the both of them. In short, it was a <em>long<em> list of enemies. Good thing what he really needed was a list of his and Nigel's enemies. Mostly, he just needed the enemies who'd want Nigel dead and for him to take the blame.

In the end, he came up with these suspects: Dr. Blowhole, Red, Hans, Savio, and lastly, White Widow.

Skipper pushed down the files into his briefcase and began getting ready for his search.

"Skipper?" a British accent rang.

"What is it, Private?" The older man asked without looking who was at his bedroom door. He could hear the shorter shift his weight and step closer to him.

"I believe that you didn't kill him." the younger answered. Skipper didn't say anything, just continued to get ready. "I know you wouldn't kill Uncle Nigel. So, I was wondering..."

"Spit it out." he interrupted; Although he knew where he was going with this.

"I was wondering if I could come help you find out who killed Uncle Nigel." the young man finally spat out.

Skipper turned. He was ready to leave. "I'm sorry, Private, but no. It'll be too dangerous for you. Besides Kowalski ordered that you should be kept an eye on. Whoever killed Nigel could be targeting you next. I'm not even sure why he allowed you to go in here."

"He didn't. I came on my own without his knowing." Private told him.

The captain raised an eyebrow at the young officer. "Really? Well then, you should better get going back to safety before _you_ get killed." With that said, he walked past Private and out the door. Private watched him walk past. He stood there watching the taller until he was out of his sight. The blonde male took no more than a step when the door suddenly closed on its own. He gasped and ran towards the door, banging at it and trying to open it. It was locked.

"That's peculiar." he murmured. He heard someone clear their throat. Private felt his heart jump and goosebumps start to form. He slowly turned and gasped again. There was a figure standing by Skipper's bed. Although the room was dim, he could still make out who it was. "You? But you're-"

"Bye-bye!" the figure interrupted. It held up a handgun; the butt of the gun aimed right at Private.

"Skipper! Help! It's-" Private yelled before he was shot.

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><p>"Skipper! Help! It's-" was all that Skipper heard.<p>

He was just a few steps away from his house when he heard the yell. He knew it was Private and from the tone of his voice, he was freaked! Skipper turned around and made a mad dash back inside his house. When he arrived at his bedroom door, he found it locked. The man kicked the door down and looked inside. He saw Private being surrounded by a pool of blood and his breathing was shallow and weak. Skipper ran right to his side, missing a dashing figure who took this chance to escape.

"Private... What happened?" he asked controlling his voice. He subconsciously debated on whether or not to touch him.

"I-i-it was... it was..." Private coughed. He couldn't speak properly.

Skipper shushed him. "You need to save your energy."

He ran into the bathroom and grabbed sterile saline, gauze, bandage wraps, and gloves. He hurried back and sat back down next to Private. He put on the gloves and, using the sterile saline, cleaned the wound. He added lots of gauze and wrapped it up tightly.

The man rushed over to his bedside to where his phone was. He came back next to Private and put down pressure to help stop the bleeding. Next, he dialed 9-1-1 and silently kept repeating _Come on! Comeoncomeon!_ He finally heard a _click_ and a "_Hello, what is the nature of your emergency?"_

"A man's been shot and he's lost a lot of blood! I've managed to slow it down, but he needs an ambulance!" Skipper said frantically.

"_What happened?"_

"I don't know. I left him alone for a couple of minutes, heard him yell, followed by a gunshot. He needs help! He's at 8181 Oaktree Lane." **(A/N: I just made that up. I don't know if there's such a street address. :p)**

"_Alright, a dispatcher will send over one right now. Stay on the phone with me and tell me how is he. Is he still breathing?"_

"Yes, but it's weak and shallow."

"_Good. What's his name?"_

"Jacob "Private" Lane."

"_I've just been informed that the ambulance is on its way. They should be there in about 10 minutes. Make sure that the door is unlocked. Is he still breathing?"_

Skipper lowered his head down next to Private's. A second passed. He heard him breathe.

"Yes, but it's getting even more shallow."

"_Good. Is the door unlocked?"_

Skipper quickly checked. The door was more than unlocked, it was broken down.

"Yes. Hurry! He's losing more blood!"

"_They're on their way. It shouldn't take more than a few more minutes_."

"I don't think he has that much time left!"

"_Sir, please calm down_."

Skipper growled and threw his phone at the wall. Hey, he wasn't a patient guy. He threw his attention back to Private. The bleeding had started to seep through the bandages. Skipper took off his shirt and wrapped it around Private.

Kowalski was searching for Private. The intellect had a feeling he would be with Skipper. He walked down Oaktree Lane when an ambulance came whizzing past him and stopped right in front of Skipper's house. Suspecting the worst, he raced down and slowed to a walk just a few feet away. He saw three medics running inside the captain's home with a stretcher and a bag. He tried to follow them, but he was stopped by a large and buff looking man.

"What happened?" he asked the man.

"Someone was shot." the stronger answered. Kowalski's eyes widened. He believed that it was Private who was shot and he suspected that Skipper was the one who shot him. I mean, he shot Nigel after all, so why wouldn't he shoot Private?

Skipper continued putting pressure on Private's cut and he was continuing to do so when the medics came in.

"What happened?" the man holding the bag asked.

"He was shot and he's losing a lot of blood!" Skipper yelled.

"Stand back." the man ordered. Usually Skipper wasn't one to take orders, but for Private's sake, he did. He quickly removed Skipper's shirt and the bandages. He sighed. He quickly replaced the gauze and wraps and signaled for him to be placed in the stretcher.

"Careful." he ordered. The man then carefully set the blonde onto the stretcher. "Stay with us, kid." The three of them ran outside. "Come on! We need to hurry if he has any chance of surviving!"

Kowalski felt his breath hitch when he saw Private being rushing into the vehicle. His face was distorted with worry, but was quickly replaced with anger when he saw Skipper.

"Skipper." he growled menacingly. He made his way towards the shorter, but more skilled man. "What happened?"

"He was shot." the brunette answered.

"By who?"

"I... don't know. I left him alone by one minute when I heard him scream then heard a gunshot."

"Are you sure _you_ weren't the one who killed him?"

"He's not dead and I didn't shoot him." Skipper glared at the lieutenant.

"Why should I believe you? There is more evidence now." he said. "I could have you arrested on the spot."

"I'll find out who killed Nigel _and_ who tried to murder Private. Right now, _you_ need to go and make sure that young Private is okay."

"Why not you?"

"I have a week to restore my good name, and besides, Private's strong. I_ know_ he'll be okay. Not to mention that you probably won't let me near him anyways."

Kowalski glared at Skipper before heading towards the ambulance and asking to come along. Skipper shook his head a the sight. _Whoever is the killer is going to be killed himself._ Skipper decided.

"For now, I have an appointment with a Dane." Skipper said out loud. He walked back inside his house and into his room. He grabbed a briefcase, put on a new shirt, and started for the dreaded, (he shivered) Hoboken.

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><p><strong>Huh. That was faster than I thought. No hint for this chapter. Hopefully Private will survive. Wait, I'm the author, shouldn't I know? Anyways, R&amp;R.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for taking long. I'm just gonna update my stories whenever I feel like it. :p I'm also very sorry it's so short.  
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><p>Hoboken. A trouble-making city. So hard and tough even Skipper was afraid to enter the city. However he had to; it's he'd most likely find Hans. After all, he was the one who sent him there.<p>

The sapphire-eyed man walked to a well-known bar; well-known since it was the roughest, filthiest dirt hole in all of Hoboken filled with ugly, tough, and extremely disgusting criminals around. And the guys didn't look that good either.

Shouts of violence, crashes of silverware and glass, and skeleton remains just outside the bar scared away any and all do gooders. Well, when it was first started out of course.

See the police tried to shut it down, but they failed. The unknown owner of the bar just moved it into an unknown location. Luckily, Skipper was able to get some info on where it is now. It was located in a dark alley - pure black at night and swallowed by shadows in day - where there were practically no cops around and where there are swarms of gangs hanging around. Some certain gangs, the Hornets and Rats, loved to hang out there.

The new bar was just filled with shouts of violence, crashes of silverware and glass, and the rotting decay of flesh.

Skipper's nostrils picked up the pungent scent of super ripe blood and the rotting flesh before he even saw a hint of light in the back. The smell made his eyes water and stirred his stomach like a hyperactive child stirring a pot of soup for his mom.

He gulped back his lunch - and breakfast and snack - and stared at the building ahead of him, a faint light from within.

At first glance, it seemed innocent enoug, no hint of any wrongdoing happening (aside from the smell). It looked more like an abondoned convience center than a bar or anything actually.

The raven-haired man, however, knew it wasn't an innocent building that he'd take a child or Private to.

Private... His cadet, his specialist. The one who'd suffer the most for his team is now is resting and in a coma at the hospital and it's all his fault. He should've stayed with Private - he should've known whoever killed Nigel would try to kill Private. But he didn't. He just left there thinking it would keep him danger, and his gut didn't warn him! He was just so frustrated with himself and disappointed.

Tears clouded Skipper's as these thoughts came crashing down upon him, one by one each feeling like a brick. He blinked and wiped the tears away and focused at the mission ahead.

His inisde source told him of a specific knock to use to get in; as well as where the bar was. So the police officer (off-duty, mind you) knocked once... twice... once... The doors opened and he was let inside.

The inside smelled even worse than the outside, but it didn't seem to have an effect on the rowdy bunches inside. People were beating each other, making out like dogs, and dancing. They also threw the chairs, glasses, silverware, table, and other people, yes even people, at each other. There were _some_ females who were kinda pretty, but not that much.

Skipper paid no attention to that, however. He just casually strolled towards the bartender and ordered some wine. With all this noise, it was practically useless to try to listen to the music; so he didn't. He kept his eyes open for any sign of his Danish arch. Soon, though, he found himself staring into fiery red eyes filled with hate, craziness, and lust. They look familiar...

"Who you looking for?" the eyes' owner's voice rang. Sure enough, he knew exactly who he was talking too.

"White Widow." he growled.

"Little old me?" she feigned innocently.

"What are you doing?" as if he had to ask.

See, if Widow is known for anything, and only one thing, is her kinda slutty hobby. She makes men fall in love with her only to stab them in the back, literally.

Long ago, she was married to the love of her life, but, sadly, he was murdered by one of Widow's admirers. The loss of the last person she truly cared and loved for drove her into insanity.

Sure some people die when their true loves die, but not Widow. She got revenge, oh she did. And that is when her bloody murders started.

Most people call her "White Widow" on the account that she's Caucasian and that she's a widow. Others may call her "Kissin' Kate Barlow" (even though her real name is Clara, Clara Johnson) because how she commits the murders reminds them of "Holes" character, Katherine.

Anyways, at the moment Clara was dressed a short blue dress and her bleach blonde hair was tied into a low ponytail. She also had on a short blue hat and blue boots. Her lips were a full red. She kinda looked more like a vampire rather than a human.

"Business of course." The White Widow answered as she took a seat next to Skipper. "Now what are you doing here? People like you don't go to all this trouble to find this place just to shut it down or enjoy it. They have another objective in mind. And yours would be...?"

"Classified." Skipper spat. He focused his attention to his wine which got there while he was looking for Hans.

"Same old Skippy, using that as an excuse. Now C'mon," Widow leaned in closer to Skipper, her fingers tracing any muscle she could find on his chest (and she could find many), "Tell me just what is it?" - she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, her hot breath sending Skipper shivers, "Let me guess... you're here to find out who murdered Nigel?"

Skipper pushed her back. "How do you know about that?"

Clara twirled a lock of hair around. "I've got connections."

"Are you sure it's not because _you_ were the one who murdered him?"

She looked at him offended. "Me? Kill him? Please, you know that's not how I roll. You know me, seduce men, get them to fall in love with me, maybe sleep with them, then I kill them.'

"Hmm... true." He mentally crossed her name off his list of suspects. "Besides you couldn't seduce him when you tried!"

She ignored his last comment. "If anyone was planning to kill him, it would be Hans. After he was planning to - Oops!" she covered her mouth. "I've said too much."

"Of course! Where is he?"

"The last time I saw him was just a few hours ago when he was walking to his house.

The man nodded then ran out of the bar, leaving Clara all by herself. She picked up Skipper's wine, now forgotten, and drank it all in one sip.

It was a very good thing that he wasn't the one to drink it since it would be Ms. Johnson's last. She fell onto the floor. Her eyes were no longer shining with any kind of emotion, her skin turned cold, and her heart stopped.

The drink was poisonous and had killed her, yet no one seemed to notice. Who would anyways?

Now I know I said that the bar was tough and people get killed there, but there had been no incident of anyone poisoning someone. Everyone there considered that to be very cowardly and they weren't cowardly at all.

If only Skipper had stayed and paid more attention to the bartender because the true murderer was the one who tried to kill him instead of Clara. Maybe he'll find out when he arrives at Hans' house...


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